


Let Me Carry You Awhile

by Lydia_E_Nheers



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Caring Douglas, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Friends to Lovers, Homeless Martin, M/M, MJN Air Is A Family, Martin Whump, Slow Burn, marlas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 15:19:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 16,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6013804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lydia_E_Nheers/pseuds/Lydia_E_Nheers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Douglas finds Martin sleeping rough in his van, he blackmails him into allowing him to help. He never expected to fall in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay. This is non Britpicked, and written on my phone. I hope you all enjoy.

It started with a sneeze. It happened in the flight deck somewhere over the Atlantic ocean, by Martin. It was so large, he nearly knocked his hat off.

"God bless you, Martin" Douglas turned to him. "You were nearly airborne on that one."

When Martin merely sniffled, wiped his nose on a handkerchief and pocketed it; Douglas went on. " _Please_  don't tell me you're getting a cold two days before the Tokyo trip. I don't particularly feel like spending the better part of a week stuck in a metal tube and hotel room breathing in your germs"

Martin rolled his eyes. "Don't be ridiculous. I'm fine. Just a sneeze."

They fell back into companionable silence once again, Douglas unable to resist sneaking peeks at Martin's profile every once in a while.

While Martin didn't look _ill_ necessarily, he didn't look quite _right_ either _._ A little pinched and tired. In fact, he had been looking more tired and pale these last few weeks. He'd been more silent on the flight deck, needing to be coaxed into word games and more easily distracted. He was a little more irritable lately as well, lines of worry had been a little more prominent between his eyes, little things like that. Small signs that all had pointed to a slightly Off Martin.

 A very small prickle of worry slid down his back. He shook his head, told himself not to be stupid and chalked it up to too many van jobs recently.

Ten minutes later, he suggested a game of Books That Sound More Interesting With One Word Changed.

They landed without any further sneezing or any other incidents, Douglas winning the game six to two and the cheese tray on the next flight. He then went home, enjoyed his two days off and didn't think about Martin again.

The second and more substantial prickle of worry came upon their return to work for the Tokyo flight. Douglas was for once, at the portakabin before Martin and saw his captain arriving looking nearly grey with exhaustion. He watched him remove his coat and because Martin was standing instead of sitting, Douglas was able to tell Martin had lost weight recently. His uniform, always a bit big on him, now positively hung from his body. He was a rather skinny chap without much he could afford to lose in the first place.

When Martin turned and caught him looking at him, Douglas smiled and waved. "Good morning, Martin" 

"Good-" Martin was interrupted by a massive, jaw cracking yawn. "Good morning. Sorry" he rubbed his cheek absentmindedly and Douglas could hear the rasp of unshaven whiskers.

That prickle turned into a small stone in his gut. Martin never forgot to shave. Ever. Maybe he really _had_ been ill. Or maybe he just overslept. Either way, Douglas had to say something. "You alright, Martin? You look like you've been ill"

Martin shook his head. "I'm fine, Douglas. I just need some coffee." He looked over at the empty pot. "Where's Arthur?"

As if on cue, Arthur came bounding in the portakabin. "Morning chaps!" He grinned from ear to ear. "I am so excited to go to Tokyo!"

"Arthur. You've been to Japan at least a dozen times. Hasn't the excitement worn off yet?" Douglas replied languidly.

"No, of course not! Every time, it's brilliant! Did you know they have _green_ Kit-Kats?! That's pretty brilliant. Coffee chaps?" He nodded over at the pot.

" _Please_ " Martin answered and sat down at his desk to file his flight plan.

"Right-o Skip. Coffee Douglas?"

"No, thank you" he looked back down at the novel he had been reading when Martin arrived. Wouldn't do to be caught staring at Martin again.

"I'll drink his" Martin yawned again and propped his cheek up with his fist as he wrote.

"You okay, Skipper?" Arthur began measuring grounds and pouring water, looking worried. "You do look awfully tired. And your face has gone a funny grey colour. And lately you've been a little..."

"I'm just fine" Martin interrupted and smiled at him, but Douglas thought it looked rather strained. "The students at the agricultural school have been celebrating the end of exams. All. Week."

The little stone of worry dissipated in his stomach. Of course that'll be it. He made a mental note to get the captain into bed as soon as they made it to the hotel, and to make sure he actually rested during their full day off in Tokyo while their client had some sort of business meeting before flying home.

"Oh, I'm sorry" Arthur handed him his two mugs of coffee. "Hopefully you can relax on the plane"

"It's fine. And I'm sure I shall" Martin drank some more coffee and finished his flight plan.

It wasn't until they were in the air that Douglas realized that students partying all night below him wouldn't explain Martin's weight loss or his unshaven cheeks. That stone returned full force. He knew then that Martin was Not Right. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is so short, I figured I'd post it immediately. :)

The Tokyo trip came to an end and they arrived back in Fitton around eleven pm. After tonight, they had three full days off before the next trip to Romania. 

Douglas for one fully intended to spend his three days relaxing. He'd ring his daughter, do a few of the chores he had been meaning to do around the house, and cook himself good dinners all the while. He was _thoroughly_ sick of catered airplane food. Though, he did get to have one good sushi dinner whilst in Tokyo. Arthur's face after trying wasabi for the first time would forever remain one of his best memories. And not just because it was the first time in a long time he saw Martin really laugh and relax over a rather large sake.

Speaking of Martin, over the last four days, his face had lost the grey colour as well as a little of the bags under his eyes, and Douglas felt better. Maybe it really _was_ all just him being exhausted and a couple of days of word games followed by decent nights of sleep in a pretty good hotel (by Carolyn's standards anyway) was what he needed. He even had found time to shave, and for some odd reason, that comforted Douglas more than anything else.

"Fun as this was, Martin, I think I'll just shove off for home now." Douglas stretched and stood up after they had performed the post landing checks.

"Yes of course. Leave before the paperwork is done." Martin teased good naturedly, rolling his eyes. He stood up and stretched as well, running a hand through his thick, red curls.

"When you do it so well..." Douglas opened the door and ushered Martin out.

Carolyn and Arthur had already exited with the client. The two pilots made their way over to Arthur and the three of them watched Carolyn walk the very wealthy business man they had just escorted over to a very posh limousine that had been waiting for him, the driver letting the client in, and then driving off.

Douglas whistled under his breath. "How was he?" He asked Arthur. Rich clients were unfailingly either coldly polite, or less intense versions of Mr. Birling.

"Quiet, mostly." Arthur answered, sounding vaguely disappointed as Carolyn walked over to them. "Read the entire flight, or slept. Didn't even want the in flight DVD. Kind of boring, really."

"Well, he didn't pay us to be his friends" Carolyn came over. "There will be some _very_ nice buns for tea, however." She smiled quickly, her usual shark-like smile at the three of them. Then she yawned behind her hand. "Alright boys. Let's go home. Arthur, lock GERTI up."

When he looked questioningly and hopefully at her, she went on "Leave the hoovering for tomorrow. I want to get to bed."

"Right-o. Thanks, mum." He grinned, relieved at her before he trotted away to do just that.

"I still have the paperwork" Martin protested sleepily.

"Bring it home with you if you must." Carolyn replied, a sharp note in her voice. "I _really_ don't want to stay any later than we need to."

Arthur rejoined them, and they all wished each other a good night and went in separate directions to their cars, departing the nearly deserted airfield one by one.


	3. Chapter 3

It was a well rested and contented Douglas that strolled into the portakabin forty minutes late on Tuesday morning.

Carolyn barreled out of her office at the sound of the door closing. "Douglas. You're late. _Again_."

"Ah yes, I thought I'd take the scenic route to work today. I do hope I haven't kept the cargo waiting long." He took off his coat, hanging it on the hook.

"That is beside the point. This is a job. You're getting paid to be here at eight. I am your boss and I expect you to be here on time. Is that understood? Or do I have to start docking your pay whenever you're late?" She had drawn herself up to her full if more diminutive height but was glowering at him in a way that brooked no argument. 

"Understood" Douglas bit back the quip he had when he looked down at Martin at his desk. He looked _terrible_.

His skin was deathly pale making the freckles on his cheeks and nose stand out in stark contrast. His lips were pale and the bags under his eyes were deeper and more pronounced than ever. His cheeks had become hollow and his usually vibrant green eyes were dead. His hair hung heavily, nearly plastered to his head, as if his curls had also lost their energy.

The captain looked up when Carolyn made a harrumphing sound and went back into her office, shutting the door firmly behind her. "That's you told, isn't it?" Martin smiled, but it didn't meet or give any life to his eyes.

Douglas sat down across from him and accepted the tea Arthur had placed at his elbow. "I guess it is." He took a sip. "Martin" he leaned in, making sure Arthur couldn't hear him. "What's wrong? You look like you haven't slept in a week."

"I'm really _fine_ , Douglas." Martin's hand was shaking slightly and he clenched it to hide that. "The students.."

"That's a load of rubbish, and we both know it" Douglas interrupted. "Listen. Whatever it is, you can tell me. If you've gotten yourself into some sort of trouble..."

"I. Am. _Fine_ " he hissed, keeping his voice down. He looked around to make sure Arthur was still out of hearing range. "I'm fine. Just _drop_ it. Nothing's wrong. Please. Just. Leave. Me. _Alone_ "

"Pardon me, _sir_." Douglas rolled his eyes and sat back with his tea. If Martin was going to be that way about it, then he could deal with it on his own. After all, he was a grown man. If he wanted to be a stubborn arse, then that was his prerogative. 

However, that didn't stop him from worrying when Martin began to cough twenty minutes from landing. Arthur brought him a cup of water at Douglas' hurried request, which he drank like a man dying of thirst, while Arthur watched, his usually dancing brown eyes sombre and filled with worry.

If Douglas thought about it, and now he was, this was how Martin was eating and drinking everything lately. As if it were the first nourishment he had received in ages. He fell upon any food that came his way with the ravenous attention of a dog in a skip. He even braved Arthur's cooking, wolfing down his portion, barely chewing. He drank so much tea and coffee even on the shortest of flights that Douglas vaguely wondered if he could sleep at night.

He drank his water and coughed, deep, barking coughs from his chest, making Douglas wince in sympathy. "You really should get seen to when we get back to Fitton. Maybe tomorrow before that Paris flight" he said conversationally, starting the descent to land.

"I told you already." Martin wiped his streaming eyes. "I'm.." He coughed again. "I'm _fine_. Just a slight cold. Aeroplanes don't exactly have the best air quality. I'll get some Lemsip and I'll be fine"

God, Douglas was getting _tired_ of hearing Martin repeat that he was fine, when he so clearly wasn't. But he left it alone, though it was scraping on his nerves. He felt as though he were walking on eggshells, and he hated it. This was the final straw. He'd have to bring it up with Carolyn if it lasted much longer.

Actually, he was astonished she hadn't already said something to Martin. Surely she noticed Martin losing weight, looking perpetually pale and exhausted. She must've seen _something_ was off. But...on the other hand, Carolyn would never say anything that could potentially jeopardize MJN's earnings. In her defence, if one pilot was permanently lost, the business would fold completely, and both Martin and Douglas knew it. It was easier to pretend nothing was happening. It's not like Carolyn didn't care for Martin. Deep down. Deep _deep_  down. 

After the coughing spell ended, they landed and disembarked. They had a few hours to kill before they flew back. After Arthur searched duty free for the elusive white Toblerone, they went out for a walk to stretch their legs.

The air was chilly and Douglas noticed how Martin shivered every time the wind blew. It was as if the biting air shot straight through his old, thin coat and then his body on every gust. He finally pointed out a cafe just a bit ahead and insisted on a cup of tea just to get Martin somewhere warm. Martin himself ordered a cup of tea and kept his hands firmly around the hot cup, leeching its warmth.

Fitton was a welcoming beacon when they landed at five that evening. "So, any plans for the evening, Martin?" Douglas asked upon completion of the post landing checks. "Going to paint Fitton a particular shade of crimson?"

"No, not really. A quick dinner and bed I think" Martin began coughing again, those same wet coughs as earlier. They had been happening with increasing frequency since the first go around earlier,  making him look paler and even more exhausted. "I have a van job tomorrow morning before we go to Paris." He finished once he could speak again.

"And you're getting some Lemsip" Douglas pointed out and Martin smiled a little sheepishly.

"Yes, of course."

Douglas got to his feet. "See you tomorrow then" and he exited the plane. "Three pm sharp!" Martin called out after him. "Wilco, captain" Douglas called back and left.

It wasn't with any real verve that Douglas ate his dinner of pasta and meatballs. La Boheme was playing softly on the radio by the sink and the sauce had been beautifully made from scratch and frozen during his time off when he actually had time to cook decent meals.

As he ate, he could only think of Martin alone in his little attic room with only a jacket potato to keep him company, a Dickensian picture painted firmly in his mind's eye. And it was an awfully cold evening...

"Sod it" he growled and used the remote on the table to switch off the radio. He then stood up and moved the sauce off the hob and shut it off, grabbed his keys and coat and left, driving for Parkside Terrace intending to insist Martin join him for dinner.

A tall, lanky youth answered the door after the fifth short jab of the bell. A wave of recreational smoke rolled out of the room from behind the boy, making Douglas quickly remember his own medical school days. He never participated himself, already preferring a good glass of Scotch, but the smell was as much a fixture in his dormitory as the faded wallpaper.

"What can I do for ya?" The boy asked, running a hand through his wavy hair, affecting an air of rumpled nonchalance that for some reason set Douglas' teeth on edge.

"Hello. Is Martin at home?" He asked as patiently as he could.

"Martin?" He raised a single eyebrow. "He isn't here" "

"Oh. Well, when will he be back?"

"No, mate. You don't understand" He stretched and leaned in the doorway. "He doesn't live here anymore. Hasn't done in weeks."

"What? Where's he gone?" Douglas racked his memory, but Martin never mentioned leaving the shared house.

"Dunno. I'm not his minder, am I?" The boy scratched at his patchy beard and shook his head. "He didn't leave any forwarding address. Said he never got mail anyway"

"Fine. Thank you" Douglas turned as the kid shut the door after him. Where the hell could Martin possibly go? He knew his family lived in Wokingham, but Martin wouldn't be there. It'd cost him too much petrol and anyway, Martin didn't sound like a man close to his family.

Douglas got into his car and pulled out his mobile. Of course, Martin didn't pick up. He muttered curse under his breath and dialed Carolyn more stabbing the buttons than tapping.

"Douglas." She started after picking up on the third ring. "To what do I owe this very _unexpected and unwelcome_ interruption to my evening? It had better be important."

"Carolyn, listen." He couldn't keep the worry out of his voice. "It's about Martin" "

Martin? What about him?"

"Did you know he's moved out of his flat?"

"I had no idea" she replied, sounding bored. "Nor did I have any desire to know. Is that it?"

"No. That's not _it_." He pulled out of the drive and started for his own house. "You surely must've noticed Martin's been not himself. The student who answered the door told me he hasn't lived there in weeks"

"Noticed? Of course I have. I'm not blind, you idiot. Just thought if it were important, he'd tell us himself. He's an adult after all"

Douglas fought back the urge to snap at her. That wouldn't help at all. "Do you have any idea where he may have gone?"

"None at all" she answered. "You can ask him yourself. We are seeing him tomorrow after all"

"Right. You're right." Douglas turned down his street. "Goodnight"

"Goodnight" she replied. "Oh, and Douglas?"

"Yes?" He pulled into his drive. "You aren't the only one who's worried about him." She paused. "Arthur's quite concerned" She added quickly and rang off.

He sat for a long time in the car before coming to a decision. Cursing himself for a fool, he pulled out of the drive again and began aimlessly wandering around Fitton's streets, looking for any signs of Martin's white van. _Carolyn's_ worried, he kept assuring himself. He wasn't doing this because he himself was worried. Not at all.


	4. Chapter 4

Fitton was a small town, but Douglas was being thorough. After nearly two hours of driving, he was about to turn back for home when he saw it in a small carpark for the park on the outskirts of Fitton; a white van. _Martin's_ van. He drove in and parked next to it, his heart sinking.

He went over to the back and knocked. No answer. No sign of life from within, either. Douglas felt a bit more hopeful then. Maybe it just broke down. Near his new flat. That'll be it. There was no way his captain was sleeping rough. No way.

He turned around and he heard it. Loud, wet coughing coming from inside. Douglas felt cold all over that had nothing to do with the chilly night and he knocked again on the back of the van.

"Martin!" He said loudly. "I know you're in there!" He heard a groan and then a muffled voice.

"'S not Martin. Go 'way!"

Undettered, he began pounding on it again "Martin, it's Douglas! I know it's you in there!" he was beating on it with his fist. "Open this door now or I swear I'll break it!" He shouted.

The door swung open to reveal a very red faced Martin inside, and suddenly, Douglas didn't know what to say. Apparently, neither did Martin as they regarded each other in complete silence for a full thirty seconds.

Finally, Douglas cleared his throat. "Been looking for you" he said lamely, lowering his fist.

"Well, you found me. Well done you" Martin sounded incredibly angry. No. Ashamed, masquerading as angry. With a healthy dose of wounded pride in there as well.

Douglas could see behind him now, the street lamp providing plenty of light. The back had a few small boxes lined up on both sides and a blanket spread out on the floor. A trash bag sat open near him and he could see it was full of wrappers and empty bottles of water. It was clear the boy was surviving on crackers, biscuits, water and not much else.

Martin followed his gaze, turning his head to look. "No microwave here at chez Martin" he obviously tried for bravado, but the joke fell flat like a deflated balloon.

The man himself deflated, all the anger disappearing at once and Douglas could see he was completely and utterly exhausted. Bone tired. "Go ahead. _Laugh_. I'm sleeping rough. Captain Martin Crieff is homeless."

"Oh... _Martin_ " Douglas climbed into the back of the van and sat down opposite of him. "I can't laugh. Not at this. What....what _happened_?"

The captain took a deep breath. "About a month ago..." He crossed his legs and sat back, leaning on the wall. "I got evicted from my attic. Was just a matter of time, really. The van broke down yet again and I couldn't afford to pay the rent after fixing it. Mr Davis is a good man, but there were students able to pay and needing the space."

His voice sounded lifeless and more tired than Douglas had ever heard it. This was the sound of Martin completely defeated, and Douglas could almost feel his heart shattering in his chest. 

He coughed few times and continued. "And...well...I've been here ever since. I do my jobs with the van and fly for Carolyn and then... Come here to sleep." At the aghast look on Douglas' face, Martin seemed to puff out a bit. "There was nothing else I could've done"

"There was something you could've done" Douglas replied, voice low and more serious than he thought possible coming from his own mouth. He didn't know if he wanted to shake or hug him, the urges to do both were nearly overwhelming. Martin's dead voice was scaring him more than he'd care to admit. He had never seen him without at least enough hope and determination to fight. Scrape. Claw. Do whatever it took to do what he needed to. But now...all fight was gone. It was like looking at an empty shell of his captain. The man he spent most of his waking hours next to, and it frightened him half to death. "You could've talked to me. You could've _called_ "

The younger man let out a humourless laugh at that. "Yes. I was to go to up to the mighty _Sky God_ with his fancy Lexus and nice home and tell him...what exactly? That I'm living in my dad's old van? That I couldn't even afford to live in the cheap motels downtown? That I'm a complete and _utter failure as a human being?_ Not only am I rubbish pilot, but now I can barely afford to feed myself?"

"You aren't a failure. Nor a rubbish pilot" Douglas said softly. Martin scoffed, but he ignored it and went on. "Not at all. You're a man determined to make his dream come true. I admire it. I admire you. Truly. But...you're also a proud, stubborn arse of a man who wouldn't know common sense if it bit you on the nose"

The laugh Martin let out now was genuine, if not a bit watery. "Thank you for that" he turned his head to cough into his sleeve.

"C'mon" Douglas got out of the van, gently tugging at Martin to get him to follow. "Let's go back to mine. You're staying with me until you get yourself sorted"

"What?! No!" He jerked back. "Th-thank you, but no."

"Martin. Be sensible. Do you really think I'm going to let you stay out here? It's freezing, you're hungry and ill on top of it! Now come on."

"I'm absolutely fine!" He burst out, showing more signs of life now than Douglas had seen in weeks. "I'm fine on my own! This is just a temporary setback and I..." He was overtaken by a round of coughing so hard, he bent over and retched over the bag of wrappers, tears running down his face.

"You aren't fine." Douglas said quietly. "You haven't been fine in a long time. We've all been worried. Carolyn... Arthur...me."

"Oh. So I see. You've all been talking about me behind my back! Well, you can take your pity and just... _sod off!_ " He went to slam the door to the van, but Douglas got there faster and held the door open.

"Martin. You either come with me...or..." Inspiration hit. "Or I call your mum."

"You _wouldn't_." His eyes widened.

"Oh, but I _would_. You can either come back to my house, have a hot meal and sleep in a bed, or I can tell your mum everything. Do you really want your brother and sister to know how you've been living?"

Martin's eyes flashed green with near loathing. "You're a real bastard sometimes, do you know that, Douglas?" He snarled.

"Oh, but _what_ a bastard" he replied sweetly. "So. What'll it be?"

"Well, I haven't got a choice, have I?" Martin got out of the back. "Fine. I'll come. But only until I find a place. That's it. And I will pull my own weight. Is that understood? I'm not a charity case and I don't want your pity."

"You aren't, and you don't have it." Douglas assured him. "Will you follow in the van?"

"Yes. The one upside to all this is I don't have rent to pay...so I could fix the van"

"Good. Come along then" Douglas got into his car and waited for Martin to do the same before leading him out of the carpark. 


	5. Chapter 5

As he drove home, he formulated a plan of action. Get Martin warm and fed, make a doctor's appointment for him with his GP, and see he gets to it. Anything else...that was up to Martin.

He got the younger man inside with only a minimal of fussing. He sat him down at his kitchen table with a cup of tea while he went and got his one box of clothes and uniform from the van. The rest, they could handle when they got back from France.

When Douglas went back inside, he turned on the light in the sitting room and showed Martin around, leading him into the comfortable sitting room, upstairs and down a short hall. He pointed to the last door, near the end. "That's my bedroom." Then he pointed to another open door next to that one. "There's the guest bedroom, feel free to unpack and make yourself at home." He pointed to the door next to it. "There's the guest bath, plenty of towels in the airing cupboard." Douglas then pointed that out. 

"What about Verity?" Martin asked, dithering over the door to the guestroom, holding his box to his chest like a shy child on his first day at a new primary school.

"She's a teenager now, Martin" he sounded slightly exasperated and kept his voice in check. "She has school...sports...friends...her own life. She doesn't visit much. And if she does decide to come, she can have my room. No problem"

"Oh. Well." He put the box down on the floor as another coughing fit overtook him.

"Hang on" Douglas went into the bathroom and opened on of the cabinet doors. He handed Martin a packet of Lemsip capsules. "Take these."

Martin opened the blister packet and got out a couple. "Thanks" he said gratefully and dry swallowed them.

"No problem. I am going to call my GP though. Book you an appointment" he began leading the way back down the stairs, through the sitting room, to the kitchen.

"Oh no, Douglas. Seriously." Martin followed. "I appreciate everything you're doing. Even if you _are_ blackmailing me. But I don't need a doctor."

"That cough is nasty and I'd rather be fussing needlessly than it be pneumonia. It'd be your luck if it were. I'm booking you an appointment and that's it."

"Fine" Martin replied moodily and sat back down at the table as his stomach finally registered the fact he was in a kitchen and food was available, letting out a very loud growl. "Sorry" he mumbled, cheeks colouring.

"Don't be." Douglas moved the sauce he had back onto the hob. "This will take but a moment to reheat"

He saw him look over at half eaten dinner on the worktop and back over at the cooker. "Douglas.." He said slowly. "Why were you out tonight? You never said."

"Well." He turned his back to give the sauce a stir and then filled a pot with water, using the moment to give himself time to think. "I was eating and thought you might like to join me. I went to your flat and a student told me you had moved out." He deliberately left out calling Carolyn. That was a blow to his pride that could wait a bit to be delivered.

"So then you just drove around, looking for me?" He asked, sounding both touched and nonplussed.

"Because someone wasn't answering his phone" he added noodles to the boiling water deliberately not looking at him.

"Oh. Sorry. The battery died and I didn't get a chance to charge it"

They fell into silence while the kitchen filled with the aroma of the rich tomato sauce as it heated. When both it and the pasta were done, Douglas ladled out a big helping of meatballs and noodles into a bowl. And set it on the table for Martin. He then handed him a large glass of apple juice, fork and napkin. "Eat slowly. I don't want you getting..." Martin snatched the fork from him and began inhaling his dinner "sick. Steady on, Martin. There's plenty" he sat down with his own smaller portion.

"S'wwy" Martin said with his mouth full and then swallowed, looking sheepish. "This is really, really good" he visibly forced himself to slow down.

"I'm glad you're enjoying it, captain but please remember to chew. I'm not terribly up on my medical training anymore." He took a bite, smiling at him.

Martin snorted and went back to his bowl, this time more slowly inhaling it. After just a few minutes, the fork was scraping against the side. "Would you like some more?" Douglas asked, nodding at the empty ceramic bowl. It was deep blue, looking even bluer and more vivid in Martin's pale, pale, hands. It struck Douglas then just how very _small_ he was. How easy it would be to just wrap his arms around his slight frame and hold him for hours...and...

"God. _Yes_. Please" Martin answered, jarring him from his thoughts, and drank several gulps of juice.

He stood and refilled Martin's bowl, pushing the unwarranted urge from his mind. After sitting down again he finally asked what he had been dying to. "Martin...how did you get by all that time without a shower? Or...anything for that matter?"

Martin stopped eating abruptly and pushed a meatball around with his fork. His ears flushed a vivid red and Douglas knew he was deeply embarrassed. "Well...I'd either charge my phone at hotels we stayed in, or leave it to charge in the portakabin if the trip was short." He started and when Douglas didn't say anything, he went on. "There is a cheap laundromat near the airfield where I could wash my clothes. As for showering.." His voice trailed off. "It's amazing what you can do at a petrol station these days. When we were in Fitton, I'd go to a petrol station early in the morning and wash up a bit in their sink. I'd save my shaving for the trips to preserve the razor, that I bought at a pound shop. I'd use the soaps and shampoos I stole from various hotels we stay in, and use the conditioner as shaving cream." He fiddled with his fork, eyes firmly on the food inside the bowl. After a moment of silence he spoke again. "I miss regular soap" his voice was so soft and sad.

Douglas' inwardly cursed himself. He wanted to weep. He wanted to take Martin into his arms. He cursed Carolyn, MJN, Martin's landlord and the whole damned world and everyone in it. How on earth didn't they notice?! Were they even looking? He very carefully didn't let that show on his face however. He just nodded in sympathy and kept eating, though he had never felt less hungry.

Silence descended on them again as Martin went back to eating as well, rapidly finished his second bowl and was yawning over it, trying to hide it behind his arm.

"Why don't you go and have a shower and go to bed?" Douglas asked. Martin blinked slowly at him, exhaustion evident all over his face.

"I can at least help you clean up." It was a token protest that Douglas was quick to wave off.

"No need. Go and have your shower. Then get some sleep. I'll get your charger from the van and plug your phone in for you. You said earlier you have a van job lined up tomorrow morning?"

"No. The client called and canceled." He stood up slowly.

"Sorry for that"

"Happens a lot" Martin yawned again.

"Well, use it to your advantage. Have a bit of a lie in tomorrow before our trip. Soap, shampoo and the like are in the cupboard under the sink." He deliberately did not look at Martin's face when he mentioned the soap and possibility of a lie in. He knew his heart truly would break in two if he saw the shattered look on Martin's face.

"Alright. Thank you." Martin looked down and away to clear his throat. "Goodnight..."

"Goodnight, Martin. Sleep well."

"You too. Thank...thank you" Martin's voice was thick and when the first officer looked up,  he positively fled the room.

When Douglas heard the bathroom door close upstairs, then the sound of water running, he pulled out his phone and called Carolyn.

After her grumpily demanding to know why he was calling at eleven o' clock at night and he had better have a damned good reason, he explained everything. He heard her suck in a shocked breath and then her shushing Herc who was speaking sleepily in the background, and then with forced calmness, she asked; "What shall we do?"

"First of all, I want you to cut a quarter from my salary and give it to him. He deserves that much at least."

"Are you sure about that, Douglas?" She asked reasonably. "You do have alimony. To three exes. And child support"

"Yes. I'm positive. My expenses are slight after that. I can handle it. I own this house so I don't need to worry about a mortgage, so it's just the bills I have. I would say cut it in half, but I do have those three ex-wives you mention"

"Alright. Consider it done." She sighed deeply, suddenly sounding older and more careworn than ever. "How did we not see it?"

"I don't know. We weren't paying enough attention. That ends now." Douglas' fist clenched. "We will make this right. We owe him that much"

"Right." She replied firmly. "I'll explain it to Arthur in the morning"

"Really? Is that wise?"

"Douglas." She paused. "Arthur may not be...well. You've met him. But he is an adult. He can handle it. I'll tell him because he loves our idiot captain like a brother. He's been very worried these last few weeks. It wouldn't be right if he didn't know and we did."

"Alright. Goodnight, Carolyn. See you tomorrow."

"Til tomorrow"

Douglas hung up and went outside to get Martin's charger from the van. He plugged his phone in the kitchen next to his own, cleaned up and went upstairs. The water was still running in the guest shower, and Douglas raised a hand to knock on the door to ask if he was alright in there and hadn't fallen asleep and drowned himself.

The joke died on his lips when he heard something that he never, ever wanted to. Martin's loud, braying, hoarse sobbing over the sound of running water. Douglas lowered his hand and mastering the insane urge to go in and hug him, comfort him, tell him it was going to be alright (the level of embarrassment _that_ would cause the both of them) tip toed silently to his own bedroom and closed the door.

Eventually, he heard the water turn off, the bathroom door open then the guest room open and then close. A hush fell over the house as the usual nighttime silence descended.

Douglas, however, remained awake far into the night, the sound of Martin's crying ringing loudly in his ears. It felt like an eternity had passed since sitting down to La Boheme and pasta. When he finally closed his eyes, one thought swirled through his mind; He was Douglas Richardson. He'd fix this. He had to.

He had to.

He had to.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have had a terrible migraine in the last few days. Today is the first time since I feel up to posting. Sorry for the delay!

It was nearly eleven when Martin shuffled downstairs wearing a pair of pyjamas so big on him, it was almost ridiculous.

Douglas had woken up early that morning and after showering, dressing, having breakfast (and resisting the urge to listen for signs of wakefulness outside Martin's door) he called his GP and booked an appointment for one that afternoon. (The man owed him a colossal favour and Douglas cashed it in now for a last minute appointment for Martin.) They didn't have to be at the airfield til three and the office was only about a mile away, so they'd be right on time.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty" he teased gently. "I was just about to come and wake you."

Martin's cheeks coloured and Douglas was glad to see his face bore marks of being pressed against the pillow and his pyjamas were ruffled along with his flyaway curls. Obviously he had slept, and deeply at that. "Should've woken me up earlier." He rasped, voice still half asleep.

"Why bother if I didn't need to" Douglas stood up. "Coffee?"

"Love some, thanks" Martin replied gratefully, remaining in the doorway.

"Do come in and sit down." Douglas indicated the chairs. "For the time being, mi casa es tu casa. Seriously though. Make yourself at home." He went over to the pot and made coffee. "The reason I was about to wake you was because I booked you an appointment at my GP at one." Martin took a breath to protest, but Douglas headed him off. "The office is right by the airfield. We have plenty of time. Look" he turned and looked at him. "You've been sleeping more or less outside for weeks. You've been washing at petrol stations and eating nothing but crackers and biscuits. You need to be seen. Who knows what you may have picked up. Did you take more Lemsip this morning?" Martin pinkened further at that, nodded to answer the question, but said nothing.

Douglas sensed victory and put a large mug of fragrant coffee down in front of him and sat down with a cup of his own.

"Did you tell Carolyn?" Martin asked after a moment.

"Yes." Douglas answered frankly. "She's been worried about you too, you know"

"Douglas!" He hissed angrily. "How could you?!"

"How could I?!" Before he could stop himself, he slammed both palms against the tabletop, making Martin jump. "Maybe it's because you wouldn't! Christ, Martin! Do you have any idea how it felt to see you last night?! After driving around for hours, looking for you?! To find you...cold and hungry...living in your bloody _van_?" he breathed deeply and mastered himself, tried again. "Martin...we feel terrible. She feels just as guilty as I do." He was about to gently tell him about the decision he and Carolyn came to, but the younger man cut him off.

"Well _excuse me!_ " Martin stood up abruptly, knocking the full mug of coffee over, smashing to a million pieces on the floor. "Sorry that me being...bloody _homeless_ is a real source of discomfort for you both!" His cheeks were red with absolute fury. He paced around and around, hands winding in his hair, and tugging madly. " _Sorry_ that you feel guilty! _Sorry_ that you had to see me like that! Must've been a real shock! Seeing poor old _captain_ Crieff living in a _fucking_ van!"

Douglas had never ever heard Martin swear like this before. He had never seen him this angry. He stood up, holding his hands up in a pacifying position. "Martin...wait. Please" but Martin was just winding up.

"I AM A MAN!" he screamed, the veins in his neck standing out. Spittle flew from his lips, giving him an almost rabid look. "I am not a...a fucking walking charity! I...I don't want your bloody pity! I...I.." Martin paused, chest heaving when he suddenly burst into noisy tears.

He turned away, covering his face as he sobbed helplessly into his hands. "Oh....oh...god Douglas" he moaned softly, unable to control himself.

Douglas came over quietly behind him and placed a broad, gentle hand on his shoulder.

Martin immediately turned and he pulled him instinctively into a tight embrace while the younger man soaked his shirt, sobbing into his shoulder. After a moment, Douglas could make out words. "I am humilated. I'm a failure. Just wanted to fly. Oh... _fuck_. I'm afraid, Douglas. What's going to happen to me?"

"Shhh. Martin" he rubbed his back soothingly, the way he did when Verity was small. "You're going to be fine. You're here now, and it's going to be okay. You'll see. Shhh..shhh" he continued to hush him with assurances and gentle shushing until the tears stopped flowing and Martin's body tensed up in his arms, signalling for Douglas to let go now.

He did so, arms aching strangely for the loss, and Martin pulled immediately back, wiping his face on his pyjama sleeve, looking incredibly young and vulnerable. "S-sorry"

"Don't apologize." He nodded at the shards of mug and spilled coffee on the floor. "Broom's in that cupboard. Fetch it for me, and watch your feet"

Douglas cleaned up the mess and sent Martin to go get showered and dressed, which he did without any arguing, he knew Martin was embarrassed by his outburst and needed a few minutes to pull himself together.

The captain reemerged fully dressed and only slightly red eyed nearly an hour later, while Douglas was putting the finishing touches on two frankly enormous sandwiches. He looked up to see Martin shyly making his way into the kitchen. "I unloaded the rest of your boxes." He said in way of greeting. "They're in the sitting room. You can unpack when we get home tomorrow. Did you remember to pack your overnight bag?"

"Yes, last night before I fell asleep" he replied, eyes on the sandwich rather than on Douglas.

"Well, we only have forty minutes before we have to leave for your appointment, so let's get cracking." He pointed to a chair. "Sit. I'm not going to keep telling you. Just sit down wherever you want."

Martin did so and Douglas pushed a plate towards him. "Eat up." Martin took a bite of his roast beef and cheese on rye, and his eyes nearly rolled back in pleasure.

"Douglas. This is delicious" he said after chewing and swallowing.

"My skills are many and prodigious" he grinned back at him before taking a bite of his own. "Luckily, the flight isn't catered. But I did make another couple of sandwiches for us to take along in case we get hungry." He knew Martin knew he meant 'in case you get hungry' but was sparing him embarrassment.

Martin's ears coloured slightly. "Oh. Good idea. Might be awhile before dinner" he said before taking another bite. He seemed to struggle with himself for a moment and he put the sandwich down. "Douglas. About earlier. I'm so sorry. I.."

"Forgiven and forgotten" he interrupted with a smile. "Don't worry about it."

"Okay. Thank you" he took another few bites of his sandwich. 

"Anytime, Martin. Anytime at all" Douglas heard himself say, and was only a little surprised that he truly meant it. Whatever it took, he'd do. 

That revelation hit Douglas like a hit to the gut. Something must've shown on his face because Martin was suddenly looking at him with concern. "You okay?"

"Yes yes. Fine" he forced himself to smile and take another bite of his sandwich. "Just thinking about Carolyn if we're late. We should leave in a bit"

Martin cracked a big smile at that and finished his sandwich. Douglas finished his own, one thought going through his mind;

_'Oh Douglas Richardson. If this means what you think it might...you are in trouble.'_


	7. Chapter 7

It wasn't until they were in Douglas' car and heading for the surgery, that Martin said something other than one word answers to Douglas asked about making sure he had what he needed for their flight later. "Remember that trip to Ottery St. Mary?" He asked suddenly, looking out the window.

"Of course." Douglas smiled at him quickly. "I admit, I was a bit of a clot that day"

"At least Arthur quickly forgave you."

"It did take a nice dinner, but yes. He forgave me in the end"

"Good old Arthur" Martin said fondly, more to himself than to Douglas. "He's the most... _himself_ person I've ever met"

"Yes, yes he is." He had to agree. Arthur was definitely _himself_. They fell silent for a long stretch with Douglas driving and Martin staring out his window.

"Do you think he knows?" Martin finally asked slowly. "About me...?"

"Undoubtedly. Carolyn said he was going to explain the best she could" Douglas replied, bracing inwardly for another torrent of anger.

"Ahh" Martin merely said and continued looking out the window. The only indication of feelings he had were the tips of his ears going red.

"So you had better ready yourself for Arthur attempting to make things better" Douglas added nonchalantly. "Including I daresay... _extra special_ in-flight catering"

"Oh..oh _God_ " Martin cringed, and then laughed. "He won't, will he?"

"I think he'll try to outdo himself" he teased, pleased just to see him smiling. "You _have_ been eating his cooking with rather a lot of enthusiasm lately"

"Walked into that one, didn't I?" Martin's smile became wider and Douglas felt his stomach clench.

"I'd say so, captain" he pulled into the carpark for the surgery and parked. Martin's smile evaporated quickly when he realized they had arrived.

"It'll be fine" Douglas said with an encouraging smile.

"I know. I mean. I'm not a child. I just...don't..." He struggled with himself

"Don't want it to be real?" Douglas guessed, correctly going by Martin's nodding.

"Yeah. I don't want to be... I dunno. Reminded of failing so miserably." He covered his face for a moment, rubbing at his cheeks.

"You didn't fail at anything, Martin" Douglas said quietly, this time unable to resist touching his arm. In a reassuring way, he'd later tell himself. "You didn't" he stressed when the captain looked disbelievingly at him. "You didn't fail. Martin..I've never met a man more determined to do something in his life. You just didn't ask for help when you needed it. And that's my fault. No. It is." He cut him off when he saw Martin take a breath to interrupt. "And it ends now. Okay?"

"Okay" he looked a little better and got out of the car.

Douglas got out as well and when they reached the door, he opened it, ushering the younger man inside ahead of him. He then gave the pretty, brunette receptionist Martin's name and they took two seats to wait. "Do you want me to go in with you?"

He smiled at him and shook his head. "No, thanks. But...I know you're worried. For no reason, I may add. So...you can be there when the doctor tells me I'm fine and you're just over worried."

Douglas had to smile at that. "Alright then. You're on. What's the bet?"

"Fiver says I'm completely fine"

"Got it"

The doctor came out then. He was a short, pudgy man with a bald head and a wide smile. "Douglas Richardson!" He greeted jovially upon entering the waiting room. "I just wanted to thank you personally for those lovely chocolates you procured for me."

Both Martin and Douglas stood up. "It was my pleasure, Horace. Horace, this is Martin" the first officer indicated him.

"Ahhh yes lovely to meet my new patient" Horace stuck out a small, fat hand and Martin shook it.

"Hello, Doctor erm..."

"My last name is Harridson, but any friend of Douglas' here is a friend of mine. We were in uni together, you know. Until this one here moved on to higher skies" Horace grinned at Douglas with a wide, toothy smile. "Alright, Martin. Shall we step into my office?" He turned and gently showed him through a door on the opposite side of the waiting area.

"Martin?" Douglas asked before he disappeared through the door.

"Yeah?" He turned to look at him.

"I hope I lose" 

He merely flashed a grin at him and went into the office.

Douglas sat back down and riffled through a magazine. When he finished that, he got up and went to his car for the book he kept in his overnight bag. France never usually warranted an overnight stay, but they were taking a hen do. At least the flight home tomorrow morning would be quiet, the ladies will be too hungover to be loud.

Nearly thirty minutes passed since he returned to the waiting area and settled in with his book, when the opposite door opened and Horace came out. "Douglas? Martin told me to get you for this part."

Douglas stood and closed his book before following him into the office. Martin was sitting on the exam table, looking so incredibly small without his coat. He was nearly shrunk into himself, clearly uncomfortable being poked and prodded. In the bright florescent light, Douglas could see just how unhealthy Martin looked. How thin and pinched. He offered him a small smile which was returned with a slightly strained one.

"I owe you a fiver" he said almost sadly, sounding terribly disappointed.

Douglas looked at Horrace who smiled reassuringly at them both.

"Well, Martin. The good news is that it doesn't look like you have pneumonia. It's just a bad cold. Nothing you really can do but take some Lemsip, drink plenty of fluids and wait it out, I'm afraid. In light of your...situation, you were quite lucky, actually. It could've easily turned into something much more serious. A few more nights of exposure, and it surely would have." He paused to let them digest that for a moment.

"So now for the bad news. You are quite underweight. There is no else going about it. I want you to put on at least another stone. If not twenty pounds. A man of your height should be around nine stone. You currently weigh eight stone three. And unfortunatelty, your lack of nourishment has probably lead to a pretty severe vitamin deficiency as well. We'll know more when the blood test results come in. But, either way, I want to see a drastic change of diet. More fresh fruit and veg especially. I wouldn't say no to a daily multivitamin, especially ones with iron in either. I also want you to sleep more. Your heart sounds healthy, because you're young and get regular exercise. But anymore prolonged stress could have serious negative consequences down the road."

Douglas caught Martin's eye and they quirked a smile at each other. The man with a van job was good for something, after all.

"I know the life of a pilot is hectic, and sleep can be hard to come by, but when you can, I want you to rest. Especially for the next few weeks. I strongly recommend you stop your moving jobs for those few weeks." Horrace added.

"But I can't!" Martin burst out. "I need to do those. I have to to earn money for.."

"Martin." Douglas laid a comforting hand on his arm. "I told you. As long as you need. You need to recover from this, then you can go back to working like the devil."

"You put your body under a lot of stress, Martin" Horace said gently, yet firmly. "You lost too much weight too quickly. You lived on the bare essentials, stripping yourself of the nutrients your body needs to function. You didn't sleep for long stretches at a time. You exposed yourself to..."

"Yes. Fine. I get it" he grumbled. "I am an idiot"

"Not an idiot" Douglas' hand tightened slightly on his arm.

"Just rest, recover. Where are you staying now?" The doctor asked.

"He's with me." Douglas answered for him. "For as long as he needs" he said, more for Martin's sake.

"Good." Horrace smiled widely at them. "So. Eat, sleep, recover. I want to see you back here in a month, with another five pounds on you at least. Also, I'll call you in a couple of days with the results of your other screenings"

"Other screenings?" Douglas asked, confused. "What other screenings?"

"You know, cholesterol, blood sugar that sort of thing." Martin replied airily, stood up and put on his coat. "Thank you, doctor" he added before Douglas could say anything else.

"You're welcome. Make an appointment with the receptionist. Oh, and Douglas, it's been nearly a year since _your_ last medical." The doctor gave him a twinkly eyed look.

"Right. Okay." Douglas rolled his eyes and they both left. After they both made appointments for the following month, they got into the car and headed for the airfield.


	8. Chapter 8

The door to the portakabin flew open as soon as they approached. Arthur came barrelling out and practically swallowed Martin in a hug. "Skip!" He cried loudly. "Mum told me about what's happened and I'm so sorry about that, but cmon, I have a surprise for you. Cmon cmon!" He still didn't let go, or move, leaving Martin squashed against him looking quite overwhelmed.

"If you want him to see it, Arthur, you're going to have to move so he can go in" Douglas couldn't hide the amused smile on his face.

"Oh yeah. Right. Sorry." He let go, and Martin staggered forward a little, breathing deeply. 

"Thank you, Arthur" he rubbed his ribs slightly as the steward steered him inside the portakabin. Douglas followed, noting that Arthur could be quite like his mother when it came to steering people. 

They went inside, Martin stopping dead in his tracks. "Well...wow. Arthur. This is just...wow" 

Douglas came in behind them and saw just what Martin meant. The portakabin was filled with balloons in every colour imaginable, colourful paper streamers adorned across every available surface. Even the coffee pot was decorated with colourful paper. Martin's desk was covered with bouquets of flowers, a stuffed aeroplane, and a whole pile of Toblerones. And most noticeable of all; going across a huge portion of the ceiling was a giant white banner that said "CONGRATULATIONS" in huge rainbow letters. 

"They didn't have any 'Get Well' banners at the shop" Arthur explained, looking sheepish. "And it's not your birthday, and you didn't graduate uni...so this was the best I could find" he paused. "D'you like it?"

Martin looked around, taking it all in. He was clearly a little overwhelmed by all the colour, but after a moment, he looked over at Arthur who was looking at him with uncharacteristic nervousness. "I love it all" he said softly. "Thank you, Arthur."

"Brilliant! You're welcome, Skip!" He beamed from ear to ear. "I'm so glad you like it!"

Carolyn came out from her office. "Ahh, there you are, Martin" she gave no sign that she noticed the decorative explosion in the room. "Alright, drivers. I'm picking up the clients now, we'll be back in an hour, I expect the flight plan filed, walk around done, and everyone ready for takeoff when we get back. So get cracking." She clapped her hands once. "Arthur, go and make sure the drinks cupboard is stocked. Now please." 

When he left the portakabin, Carolyn looked hard at Martin. "Douglas informed me of your situation, Martin. I am...sorry." She looked distinctly awkward, and Douglas pretended not to listen. 

"Don't-don't worry about it" Martin stammered. "Not your fault" 

"Well of course not." She rolled her eyes. "It's only my company that can't afford to pay you a proper wage." She hesitated. "Whatever you need, okay?" 

When Martin nodded, she nodded back once. "Right then. Things to do! Chop chop!"

She left the portakabin, letting the door slam behind her. "Well, captain." Douglas smirked. "I do believe we just witnessed history. A genuine Carolyn Knapp-Shappey apology" 

Martin grinned back at him. "Never thought that would ever happen"

"Don't let it go to your head, miserable underling!" Carolyn bellowed from outside. 

Douglas caught Martin's eye, and at once, they burst into fits of laughter. When the giggling fits subsided, Martin wiped his eyes with a handkerchief. "Ohh..." He breathed. "Good lord, I needed that"

Douglas was trying not to stare at Martin's reddened face, rosy from laughing rather than embarrassment or anger. The younger man looked beautiful like that. Happy. Douglas never noticed just how freckly Martin's cheeks were. It was...cute. He felt his stomach tense, the sudden urge to kiss him nearly overwhelming. 

"Douglas?" Martin's voice cut into his thoughts. 

"Mmmm, yes?" He blinked. "Sorry, what?" 

"I was asking if you wanted to do the walkaround while I filed the flight plan" he was looking at him with that same peculiar look as earlier over their sandwiches. 

"Will do, captain. Meet you on the plane" Douglas gave him a faux salute to which Martin rolled his eyes, and he strolled out of the portakabin, glad for the momentary fresh air and few minutes away from Martin.

He had of course, _noticed_ Martin in the past. He was a healthy bisexual man and spent nearly every waking hour with him for God's sake. He wasn't a bad looking man, really. A little small. A little thin. A lot young. But he had never really _looked_ at him. As Douglas did the walk around, he tried to shake off the image of Martin's face, happy smile covering it, making his green eyes sparkle in the light... The dusting of freckles covering his cheeks...Those incredibly _vibrant_ green eyes... This wasn't working. 

He shook his head. Martin is straight. He's straight and much too young. 'Bring some company to your room later, get it out of your system. It's just been far too long.' He thought to himself. After all, h e hadn't had sex since that one nighter six months after Helena. That was over a year and a half ago. And even while he and Helena were together, their sex life had dwindled somewhat. Probably what drove her to her Tai-chi "lessons".

It was with that thought in mind that he got into GERTI and sat in his seat. In a few moments, they'd be in the air and while he and Martin would be once again in close proximity, Arthur would be in and out, there'd be word games and normality. He'd have a shag later, (obviously. He was _very_ good at ensuring the possibility of sex when the fancy took him) and he'd feel better. This stupid one sided seed of attraction would be gone. 

Martin joined him a few minutes later, as did Arthur, Carolyn and their already drunken gaggle of giggling clients. They were in the air soon after. 

It was a pretty short flight, so they only had time to play a game of Airports the Start with the Last Letter of the Previous Airport. Douglas won the brie off the cheese tray, and conceded to a round of Beat the Manual, which Martin clobbered him and won the smoked Gouda. After that, they needed to land.

After they saw their clients into their limo, they checked into their hotel. It was a halfway decent hotel, and they each had a pretty nice room. The nicest rooms they had in a while in fact. Whether it was guilt about Martin, or because their Tokyo cheque had cleared, Douglas wasn't sure and knew far better than to ask. 

After unloading their things, Arthur dragged Carolyn off to go exploring. Martin merely wanted to take a walk and asked Douglas if he'd like to accompany him, and he found himself unable to say no.

They walked in silence for over an hour before stopping at a small café, and Douglas bought them both a coffee. It was...nice. Douglas couldn't remember the last person with whom silence was so comfortable. Usually, he felt stilted and awkward when he and someone else were alone together and not speaking, but with Martin, he didn't need to fill the air with words. Just being with the other man was nice. 

They eventually rambled back to the hotel to meet Carolyn and Arthur for dinner, because dinner with Carolyn meant it paid for on the company expense card. They found a nice, small restaurant near the hotel and they ate and they all but Douglas drank a little too much wine, but they all laughed together, feeling close and cosy. 

After a leisurely dinner, they split up again for their rooms, but Douglas decided to go to the hotel bar. Hopefully, he'd find a bit of company for the night. Get his mind off the young captain with his beautiful green eyes and warm, easy smile...

And _especially_  what they looked like from across a small, candlelit table. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the delay. A job promotion led to an hours increase at work, and depression also decided to rear its ugly head. I'll try to update more regularly now. Sorry!

The bar wasn't terribly crowded, but there were a few people milling about. He took a seat on a stool, the barmaid asked him immediately what he wanted. He ordered a seltzer water and looked around. 

A younger man immediately caught his attention. He was tall, nearly as tall as himself with jet black hair and piercing, ice blue eyes. They locked eyes for a moment, and Douglas raised his glass in greeting. The other man came over, with a confident not quite a swagger and sat down next to him. He was wearing a maroon button down shirt and black trousers. "Hello" his accent was English to Douglas' surprise. "My name's Henry"

"Douglas" he smiled quickly. "English then?"

"From London on business." He ordered a Scotch, neat from the barmaid who was giving him an inquiring look. "Banker. And what brings you to Paris?"

"Stopover" he replied. And as if that was the magic word, Henry's look suddenly became a fraction more interested.

"Oh? A pilot then?"

"Airline captain." Douglas held out a hand and Henry shook it with a firm handshake. "Douglas Richardson. How nice to meet you" 

"Henry Ryans. Lovely to meet you too" he replied, holding the shake a fraction longer than he needed to before letting go.

Time slid away from Douglas after that. He didn't drink, but he certainly knew how to act the part. He just kept ordering "more of the same" for his seltzer, and matched Henry drink for drink as the night began to ooze away. 

Henry made decent conversation, but Douglas didn't really care about that. What he cared about were the increasingly heated looks the younger man was giving him. The more frequent touches to his arm. The increasing laughter at his jokes and witty bantering. Finally, after about three hours of this dance, Douglas leaned in and growled directly into his ear "My room's directly upstairs. Care to join me?"

Henry regarded him for a moment, and then nodded emphatically. "God, yes" 

"Good" he made his voice low and rumbly, delighting in seeing a delicate shiver go through Henry's frame. He wasn't a bad looking man, and as far as a distraction goes, he could certainly do worse. He cleared the tab for both of them, took his hand, and led the way out, to the lift for his floor. The moment the lift was closed, they were snogging messily and Douglas pulled him into his hotel room, where they fucked until Henry fell asleep while Douglas got rid of the condom and fell asleep next to him. 

What he didn't see upon exiting the bar was the small, redheaded man sitting at the table near the door. He also didn't see him sadly watching Douglas and company leave.


	10. Chapter 10

Henry was gone when Douglas woke up. His side of the bed was cold, meaning he had been gone for a while. Just as well really. He had to be at the airfield in two hours to fly home.

He took a shower, washing the dried semen from his belly and chest. The sex had been pretty good. Henry was a quick study, but pretty drunk.

However, that didn't stop the hot, bubbling guilt coating his stomach like liquid lead. "What the hell do I feel guilty about?!" He demanded of himself. "I had a one nighter with a bloke who I will never see again. Done it a thousand times."

He couldn't get Martin's face out of his mind. It almost felt like he had cheated. He cursed himself, shook his head and washed his hair, determined to get rid of this stupid feeling. He wasn't beholden to anyone. Not even Martin. He could shag anyone he wanted. He was single after all.

But he knew his attempt at distraction failed, and he couldn't help the feeling of extreme disappointment. Nor could he help the wanting of a good glass of Scotch. Henry's kisses had tasted of it, and though it was early in the morning, Douglas could only remember the good burn of it sliding down his throat.

He put those thoughts firmly from his mind as he exited the shower, brushed his teeth, getting rid of the taste.

He looked over himself in the mirror. His reflection stared back at him, and he frankly didn't like what he saw; a middle aged first officer who only last night lied to a younger man about being a captain in order to get into his pants...that thought reminded him painfully of the same lie he told Helena. Life really was a circle. A rather painful circle.

His thoughts were getting maudlin, so he rinsed his mouth, and brushed his hair before going into the room to dress, taking his overnight bag and going downstairs. Carolyn was down in the lobby with Arthur.

"Morning Douglas!" Arthur beamed at him. "Mum and I were going to have breakfast. Before she picks up the clients. Join us?"

"Love to, Arthur." Douglas replied, looking forward to a cup of coffee than actual food. He wasn't very hungry.

"Then let's get to it" Carolyn gestured to the adjacent room. "Have you seen Martin?"

"Martin? No. I thought he'd be here with you"

"Right here!" Martin called behind them, rushing over, hair wet and uniform askew like he had just thrown it on after a hasty shower. "Sorry. Overslept"

"You captain?" Douglas teased. "Never thought I'd see the day"

"Oh shut up, Douglas." Martin snapped. Not teasing. "You do it nearly every day"

Douglas looked at him, cocking his head. "You all right, Martin?"

"Yes. Yes fine." Martin smiled, but it didn't meet his eyes. "Sorry, I didn't mean to snap. I didn't fall asleep until late, slept through my alarm."

"Well, let's go and eat. It's free with the room, so eat up my hearties" Carolyn ushered them to the hotel dining room, Arthur wondering aloud about the origins of the croissant and whether or not the staff at this particular hotel would know.

"There's the Carolyn we know" Douglas murmured to Martin behind Carolyn and Arthur, who smiled quickly and rolled his eyes.

The plane ride home was short and uneventful. As predicted, the clients were too hungover to do anything more than sleep the whole way. After landing, Martin did the paperwork while Douglas wheeled himself around the portakabin in a desk chair and watched Martin.

His eyebrows were furrowed as he concentrated and wrote, the pen scraping gently against the paper.

The whole way home, Martin had seemed off. Prone to snapping and looking at Douglas out of the corner of his eye when he thought Douglas couldn't see him. He hadn't even tried to win the game of Airports That Start With the Letter Zed, even though Douglas had suggested it knowing Martin would win. He knew better than to ask him if he was okay again, so he just let it be.

"And, done" Martin looked up at him with a quick smile.

"Good. File that and we'll head off?" Douglas stood and stretched. "One whole day til our next trip. Any idea what you're going to do?"

"Well, I would be working on van jobs. Earn a little money." His voice was bordering on testy again. "But since I obviously can't do that. I don't know. Maybe reread the manual for the thousandth time" his voice went from testy to bitter and he ran a hand down his face and sighed, frustrated and defeated. Douglas was hit with a little inspiration.

"Would you like to accompany me to Duxford Air Museum tomorrow then? Since you have nothing on?"

"Since when do you want to spend your day off at an air museum?" Martin cocked one eyebrow.

"Since it will be a nice day, you enjoy it and I, like you, have nothing on. So would you like to go?" Douglas asked smoothly, and absolutely did not feel a tiny twinge of nerves.

"Well.." He thought for a moment. "Okay. Yeah. I'd like that. Thank you"

It hit Douglas in that moment that he had just volunteered to spend an entire day learning about aeroplanes. On his day off. From flying an aeroplane. But the smile Martin was giving him was happy and genuine, and Douglas knew it would be completely worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The little bit of research indicated that some hotels in France provide breakfast. But that's mostly in higher class hotels. So just pretend that this lower class one would. Shh. :)


	11. Chapter 11

And worth it, it was. They arrived early to the museum and declined the guided tour. Douglas had smiled at Martin as they walked away from the desk and said that Martin was far more qualified to give a tour than anyone who actually worked there, and Martin's face lit up and taken on a slight blush, and Douglas had to wonder when it was when someone had last paid him a genuine compliment, and he inwardly vowed to make sure he heard plenty of them.

All day, (save for the thirty minutes they took to eat lunch while Martin was still talking about aeroplanes in between bites of food) Martin carefully guided him from exhibit to exhibit, chattering about the absolute finest details about each and every thing he pointed at. He was relaxed and happy, animatedly moving from one thing to the next taking time to explain everything.

Douglas let the stream of words wash over him, and remained quiet, watching his thin hands moving excitedly as he pointed and gesticulated. He only offered his commentary when it was needed and just let Martin talk. He was quite literally in his element, and Douglas hadn't seen him this happy in a long time. And if Martin kept grabbing him by the arm to steer him to the next thing, that was neither here nor there.

Martin fell quiet on the ride home, leaning against the passenger side window, and watching the sky above them. Douglas was content to remain quiet, listening to the opera he had playing softly on the radio When they finally arrived back at Douglas', he turned to see Martin fast asleep, face completely relaxed and a little slack jawed.

He smiled, watching him for a few moments. Martin never looked so relaxed. Of course, they had shared a room dozens of times over the years, on those trips Carolyn either couldn't afford or didn't want to pay for rooms for them both. But usually, even in sleep, Martin's face was pinched and worried, as if his problems had followed him into dreamland. But now, Douglas was struck by how much younger he looked when this relaxed. How beautiful. He let himself really look at him, knowing Martin wouldn't know.

He really _was_ beautiful, Douglas had to admit. His captain was short, scrawny and pale. He would never be a GQ model, Douglas knew that. But his hair was thick rings of rust that he knew through long hours in a small enclosed space would smell like cheap shampoo, something citrus-y and jet fuel. They fell across his forehead in an artless array and was now just starting to creep down his neck, which meant that Martin would very soon be getting his haircut, which judging by the fluttering of his stomach, Douglas regretted.

His eyes, he knew beneath those fluttering eyelashes were a sparkling green. Well, they had sparkled today. They had danced and crinkled up in the corners as well. When was the last time his eyes expressed true joy, rather than exhaustion, sadness, resignation or anger? Far too long.

He had freckles speckling all across his nose which was turned up ever so slightly on the end and cheeks which were prone to blushing along with his ears. His skin was creamy and smooth, and his hands were skinny with long fingers, unadorned save for his father's signet ring on his left middle finger. It was sightly too big on him now, but some good meals will easily rectify it...

Martin began blinking and made a snuffling half-snore, interrupting his train of thought. Douglas immediately schooled his features into a less soppy expression.

"Good morning" he said teasingly as Martin sat up and stretched, twisting his spine.

"Should've woken me. Sorry. I didn't mean to just drop off like that" he yawned widely and blinked as where he was dawned on him.

"Don't worry about it. I figured sir needed to give his vocal chords a rest" he unbuckled his belt and switched off the radio.

"I'm sorry if I talked too much" he replied sheepishly, raking a hand through his hair.

"No. Don't apologize. I was teasing. Today, was... Nice." Douglas said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck, strangely unwilling to open the car door.

"Yeah. It was." The very tips of Martin's ears went red. "It was a good day. Thank..thank you, Douglas. I really needed that"

"No need to thank me, Martin. It was a good day for me too." Douglas smiled. "I learnt a lot...you make it interesting."

Now all of Martin's ears went red as well as his cheeks. "Well. I'm glad I can serve as a good tour guide at least." He smiled back at him.

"You are much more than a tour guide. But...even if you were, you'd be a damned good one" Douglas felt his own cheeks heating up. He fought to keep his expression light.

"Well, thank you for that. And for today" Martin opened the door and as the outside breeze rushed in, the charged and awkward atmosphere rushed out. "Dinner?"

"I was actually just hoping we can order pizza tonight. Tomorrow we leave for two days" he reminded him and stepped out of the car.

"Pizza sounds great, actually." Martin joined him on the drive, letting Douglas lead the way in. "Sausage and onion?"

Douglas could only imagine the heartburn that would bring upon him, but as he turned the key into the house and saw Martin's face reflected in the window, he could only say; "Sounds perfect."


	12. Chapter 12

The next couple of days passed by for Douglas like water through his fingers.

Martin after the Duxford trip had become very much like his old self again. The one that existed before being kicked out of his attic room. They flew a client to Italy and spent the night at a small cheap motel before flying home. They bickered good naturedly over the cheese tray and landing procedures. They played word games that Douglas won of course. They remained silent for a while, but it was comfortable and familiar rather than tense and unsure. And best of all to Douglas, when they returned from Italy, Martin went straight to Douglas' Lexus without hesitating.

They were going to Ireland the following day, and were due to arrive at the airfield at nine am. So after saying goodbye to Carolyn and Arthur, they headed back for Douglas'.

"That was a good trip. The motel was decent" Martin stretched his back. At Douglas' look, he shrugged. "At least there wasn't mould all over. Remember that motel in Moscow?"

"Good lord" Douglas laughed. "Remember that one in New York?"

"D'you mean the one with the cockroaches or the one we're pretty sure someone was murdered in?" Martin replied, laughing now too.

"I was actually talking about the one with the blue mould in the shower. The one we had to share."

"Oh god, I forgot about that one!"

"How can you possibly forget? I'm sure that didn't clear my lungs for a month! And what did Carolyn say?"

"At least there aren't roaches!" they both crowed at the same time, and cracked up.

"Ohhh we've stayed in some doozies" Martin wiped his eye with his thumb when the laughter dissolved into giggling.

"Oh yes, we rather have, haven't we?" He paused a moment. "We have time for a proper dinner tonight. What do you want?" He asked as he turned into the carpark of the Tesco near his house.

"Whatever you do. I'm not fussed."

"I know you aren't" Douglas rolled his eyes and parked. "But what do you want? We need to pick up ingredients either way"

Martin thought for a moment. "Can we have cottage pie?" He asked, shyly. "It was my favourite when I was a kid, haven't had it since I moved out"

"That sounds great. A salad to go with and fruit tarte for dessert?" He smiled. "We do need you to get your five a day, remember."

"Yes, of course" he grinned and got out of the car.

Their trolley rapidly filled with food, Douglas throwing in practically everything Martin even looked at. He smoothly paid before Martin could offer, but didn't say no to Martin carrying the majority of the bags to the car.

When they arrived back at the house, they put everything away and Douglas began prep work for dinner.

"Can I help?" Martin hovered near the cutting boards.

Douglas turned and cocked an eyebrow at him. "Are you sure, captain? It's slightly more difficult than your customary jacket potato."

"Oh shut up, Douglas. I do know how to do some things in the kitchen" he rolled his eyes and grabbed a cutting board and got out an onion.

"Then go ahead. Knives are in that drawer" he pointed it out and then gestured to the radio on the counter. "I prefer music to cook to. Any objections?"

"No, that's fine." Martin got out a suitable knife and began peeling and cutting.

"All right" he grabbed the remote and switched it on to a big band station.

The music filled the kitchen along with the sound of chopping and generally clanging of two men cooking at the same time. Douglas began absentmindedly scatting and humming along with the music, feeling happy and domestically comfortable.

Just after he put the assembled cottage pie in the oven, he looked over to see Martin with his back to him, putting together a salad, and dancing. He moved fluidly, and Douglas found himself unable to take his eyes off him.

Martin moved with an easy grace, for once not tripping all over himself. He obviously didn't know he was being watched, so he was unconscious and free. And happy. For a moment Douglas found himself fantasizing about that lack of inhibition and apparent flexibility and grace in a completely different situation. And when his cock gave an interested twitch, he abruptly pulled himself out of those thoughts and forced himself to turn around.

Thirty five minutes later, they were sitting down to a rather large helping of food. Douglas had turned the radio to soft jazz that played in the background. They chatted about inconsequential things; mostly their upcoming three trips to Ireland, Brazil and China starting tomorrow. They weren't going to be in Fitton for more than a few hours at a time for nearly two weeks. After which, GERTI was scheduled for some much needed repair work before the CAA stepped in, and they'd be off for a full week. The time was struck through the wall chart in red ink.

"Carolyn will love that" Martin laughed over his water glass.

"She has no choice when her plane is held together with gaffer tape and hope." He grinned back at him.

"I suppose not" Martin smiled widely back. "It'll be nice to have some proper time off" his smile slowly faded. "I'm sorry you'll be stuck with me. But in a few weeks I can..."

"None of that" Douglas raised his hand, interrupting. "I'm happy to have you here. We're friends, aren't we? I'm happy to spend time with you"

"Thank you, Douglas. We are friends, aren't we?" He took a bite of his pie.

"Yes, of course"

They went back to eating, and after about thirty seconds, Martin looked up. "Hey Douglas?"

"Yes?" He looked up smiling.

"I'm glad." Martin's ears were glowing.

"Me too, Martin." Douglas felt his own cheeks heating and he went back to eating.

The rest of dinner and dessert (the store bought tarte, which Douglas griped was so very inferior to his homemade recipe, but they didn't have time to make it, and Martin assured him that he knew) passed in companionable silence. They cleaned up and put everything away as Martin began yawning into his arm.

"Why don't you go up to bed?" Douglas suggested after the sixth one in a row.

"It's barely eight." He protested while letting out a jaw cracking yawn.

"But you're still recovering. And the sleep is doing you a world of good. You haven't been coughing nearly as much the last couple of days, and you're already looking healthier. You obviously need it still."

"Well, I guess..." He yawned again. "I can take a shower and turn in. Tomorrow when we get back from Cork, I'll pack my bag for Brazil...oh damn." He patted his pocket. "I left my phone in your car"

"Don't worry about it. I'll go and get it and charge it for you here in the kitchen. You never took your charger back" he pointed at the outlet near the radio where the old cord sat next to the plug.

"Oh. Well, I have a travel one." He nodded once. "All right. Thank you, Douglas" he yawned again and began walking out of the room, shoulders slumped with weariness. "Goodnight"

"Goodnight, Martin. See you tomorrow" He called after him as he heard the guestroom door open and then the guest bathroom door open and close. As he put away the last of the dishes and switched off the radio, he heard the water above him turn on.

Douglas was suddenly reminded of the first night Martin was there. Hearing his hoarse sobbing had broken his heart. But, Martin really did seem happier and healthier lately. More like he used to be. And for that Douglas was profoundly grateful. Grateful to a deity he didn't believe in that he found him in time. That the young, stubborn sod had agreed to come home with him. He may have blackmailed him, but he'd have never actually called his mother. And he knew that deep down, Martin knew that as well.

After the kitchen was cleaned, Douglas went out and found Martin's phone on the passenger's seat. It wasn't dead, but it was blinking. Douglas closed the door and unlocked it. It wasn't password protected, and he saw Martin had a voicemail from an apparently unknown number.

If it was a potential client, he could call back and decline on Martin's behalf before it got too late, Douglas thought to himself as he hit the listen button and held the phone up to his ear to listen to the message.

He felt an ice cold stone dropping into his stomach as he heard the familiar voice of Horace in his ear.

"Hullo Martin. This is doctor Horace Haridson here. I'm just calling to tell you that good news, your STI testings have all come back negative, as well as your HIV test. Of course, you will need to be tested again in a few months, just to make sure. If you have any questions, please do not hesitate to give me a call." His voice dropped a little. "And if you need any advice, again, don't hesitate to ask. Thank you Martin, and have a good night. I'll see you in a few weeks."

The message ended, and Douglas locked the phone, feeling like the wind had been knocked out of him. He leaned against the door to his car.

What on _earth_ was Martin keeping from him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cottage pie is made with beef and Shepard's pie is made with lamb, right? 
> 
> Also, I know it's probably against various laws to disclose private medical results on someone's voicemail, but shhh it's drama. :-)


	13. Chapter 13

Douglas slept poorly that night, questions whirling through his mind. Was Martin in a relationship? If so, where were they? Did he plan to have sex with someone else in the future and was just being cautious? Who? When? He turned over and pummelled his pillow with frustration and forced his eyes closed. That worked for about ten seconds before he rolled onto his back. Those questions began leading to others and eventually thoughts began creeping into his mind about Martin in flagrante delicto and he groaned, rubbing his face with his hands.

Those thoughts wouldn't go away though. The more he tried to resist, the more his body began reacting. He closed his eyes as images of Martin, legs up over Douglas' shoulders and his cock buried deeply inside him. Oh god, what would he feel like, so tight around him? Thoughts of Martin riding him, eyes closed and mouth open. Thoughts of that hair, red and flyaway, head back and throat exposed. Flashes of images of those toned arms and legs. He imagined the smell of his sweat, combined with the smell of cheap shampoo and that citrus-y smell he had never be able to identify.

With a resigned sigh, he reached beyond the waistband of his pyjama bottoms, stroking himself quickly and efficiently, just this side of too rough, and brought himself off with Martin's name on his lips and his face seared into his mind. When he finished, he removed his pyjama bottoms, wiping himself off with them and tossing them to the floor. He fell into a thin sleep then, dreaming of running down twisted, foggy halls, chasing down Martin's pained, disembodied voice.

He woke up around four thirty, not needing to be up til seven. After giving sleep up as a bad job, he got up and went to the ensuite for a shower.

"Oh god, Douglas." He murmured, quietly cursing himself as he washed. "You really are in trouble."

After drying and completing his usual teeth cleaning and hair brushing, he went back through to his bedroom and dressed before going downstairs. He wasn't hungry, so he flicked on a small lamp in his sitting room, sat down at his piano, picking at the keys.

Slowly, picking turned into chords. Chords turned into a simple tune. A simple tune turned into Beethoven. He let his eyes close and the music take him away. Away from this whole confusing mess.

The piano was the one thing aside from regular visitations with Verity that he fought for in three divorces. It had been his grandfather's, lovingly taken care of for decades and left to Douglas when he was seventeen, as he was the only other family member that played. So he played Beethoven in his sitting room at near five in the morning and lost himself in music, allowing memories of strong pipe tobacco and calloused hands teaching him Chopin to take over for awhile.

When the song ended, he opened his eyes to see Martin wrapped up in a threadbare tartan dressing gown standing next to the piano, green eyes wide and his arms wrapped around himself.

Douglas visibly startled. "Martin! You're quiet as a ghost." He had nearly forgotten Martin was even upstairs. "I'm sorry. Did I wake you?"

"No. Not really. I had gotten up to use the loo when you started. Sorry I scared you."

"You did _not_ scare me" he went for teasing. "You nearly gave me a heart attack."

"I'm sorry"

"Don't worry about it."

Martin shuffled. "You're very good at..." he gestured to the piano.

"You've heard me play before." He remembered that day on the airfield well.

"Yes, I remember. But...I just thought I'd tell you again." He smiled at him, obviously remembering it too.

"Well. thank you. Though you do make a good audience, you don't have to be awake until seven. If you want to go to bed, you should"

"That's all right" Martin shook his head and nodded at the bench. "May I sit with you while you play?"

Without verbally replying, he slid over and Martin sat next to him. "Give me your hands" Douglas said quietly.

"What? Why?"

"Because if you're going to sit here, you're going to play."

Martin raised his hands with an eye roll and half smile and Douglas gently positioned his fingers over the correct keys. "Now. Play that one" he pointed to his index finger. Martin did. "Good. Now that one" Douglas pointed to his third. Martin did again, shyly touching the key. "Good. Now, this and this" he pointed to two more fingers. He played them one after the other. "Perfect. Now follow me" he slowly began to play, nudging Martin when it was his turn to play that pattern.

The gentle music began to pour out, Douglas watching the exhilarated smile creeping over Martin's face as he unconsciously moved his hands.

When the final notes played by Martin floated away, Douglas turned to him. "A prodigy" he smiled warmly at him.

"That was so beautiful, Douglas. Thank you" he looked down at their hands on the keys, pinkies still touching. "Thank you, for everything." He didn't look up.

"There's no need to thank me, Martin. Happy to do it." He replied softly.

He knew he should ask him about the voicemail right then. But...he couldn't. Not now. Not with Martin looking at their touching pinkies. With his tartan dressing gown and hair smashed down and unbrushed. What he really wanted was to lean over and kiss him. To taste that stale morning breath and feel those slightly chapped lips against his. Feeling brave, Douglas took his hand in his, and when Martin looked up into his eyes, startled, he said "I mean it, Martin. I'm happy you're here"

He could hear Martin's breathing as the room stilled and the atmosphere grew charged. It was like the Lexus a few days earlier, but even more so. The air crackled between them, as their hands remained joined in a loose but meaningful hold.

"Douglas." Martin whispered, as if he were in church. And Douglas knew then. It wasn't a question. It was an answer.

"Martin." He replied, voice a low, reverent rumble.

For the rest of Douglas' life, he would swear the following thirty seconds were the most profound moments he would ever experience, save for Verity's birth. He lifted their hands, and kissed between Martin's first and second knuckles. "I would very much like to kiss you right now, Martin" he looked into his eyes. "May I? Please?"

Martin didn't answer. Instead, he leaned over and kissed him.

It was a chaste, sweet kiss, filling Douglas' mouth with bright daylight. His breath was indeed stale and his lips were indeed chapped and Douglas couldn't give any less of a damn. He reached up slowly with his free hand, and cupped Martin's sharp cheekbone, keeping their other hands clasped more tightly together. He kept the kiss dry and chaste, but filled with promises and guarantees. The least of which was the promise of more kisses.

The kiss ebbed and flowed and when they naturally broke apart, they mutually opened their eyes and locked onto each other. Reflected in Martin's was slight shock at what had just occurred, happiness, nervousness and love. All at once. And he knew that Martin was seeing the same emotions reflected back at him in Douglas'.

"Was that okay?" Douglas asked, keeping his hand on his cheek, gently swiping his thumb up and down.

"Yes. More than. Very much so. I just..." Martin stammered, but leaned into the touch. "We.. We have a lot to talk about, don't we Douglas?"

"Yeah. We do. I foresee many conversations. But...let's have some tea first." He stood up, and offered him a hand. "Tea, Martin?"

Martin took it and nodded. "Tea sounds good."

Together, Douglas led them into the kitchen, where the kettle and the first of many long hours of conversation awaited.


	14. Chapter 14

The tea was rapidly growing cold as dawn arrived and broke and a soft, gentle light began bathing Douglas' kitchen. The two men seated at the table, however didn't even notice.

Once they got into the kitchen and Douglas had placed a cup of tea in front of each of them, the words didn't seem to be particularly forthcoming to either one of them, and they merely sat in silence, both awkwardly tying and failing to get a conversation started. Occasionally, one of them would look like they were about to start speaking, but only awkward noises would ensue and the silence would lapse again. The tension in the room was palatable.

Finally, it was Martin who spoke first. "That wasn't.." He cleared his throat, took a sip of tea, grimaced at it being cold, and continued. "It wasn't...I wasn't trying to say...thank you or anything"

"What?" Douglas tilted his head. "Oh. For...oh no. I didn't think it was." His mouth was dry and he took a swig of tea. "I could tell it was..."

"Real." Martin interrupted, and they both smiled at each other. When they smiled, the mounting tension finally broke, and they both chuckled. "Yes. I've. Wanted to do that for a while." Martin was blushing again and before he could over think or stop himself, Douglas reached for and took his hand.

"I've wanted the same" he replied softly, but earnestly.

"Really?" A note of hopefulness entered Martin's voice, mixed with incredulity despite what had just happened. "You have?"

"Course I have" Douglas leaned over and kissed him again, quick and chaste. When he pulled back, Martin looked positively gobsmacked.

"Listen, Martin. I know I'm a lot older than you are...and thrice divorced....and..." He shook his head ruefully, his drying grey hair flopping. "Oh bollocks. Look. Martin. I'm a past-it middle aged man with a teenage kid of my own, a former drinking problem and no prospects if MJN does eventually fold. I understand if my hitherto frankly _enormous_ good luck has finally run out, and you don't...but. I'd like too..." Damnit, he could feel himself blushing furiously now. "I'd like to give.." He gestured with their still-joined hands. "A go. What do you say?"

Martin squeezed his hand. "I've wanted...that. This. For so long, Douglas. It was the chief reason why I didn't go to you for help in the first place. I couldn't...face you. When I wanted you so much. So..." He took a deep breath and let go of his hand, looking like a man who needed to push a boulder up a mountain."I'm...I'm sorry. But we can't. I can't."

"What?!" Douglas drew in a shocked breath, feeling like he had just been punched in the stomach and had his aforementioned stomach torn out of him. "But...but _why_?! You just said..."

"I said I wanted to be with you. And I do. But Douglas...I'm indebted to you" he raised his hand to stop Douglas interrupting. "You took me in, gave me a place to sleep, feed me, brought me to your gp and a million other things...and now....this. What if it all goes wrong?" His voice rose about two octaves and became a pained whisper. "I have nowhere else to go, Douglas. I can't live here and...start something with you. As much as I want to. Not until I can contribute too."

Douglas breathed deeply and forced himself to think rationally, despite the air rushing through his ears. Martin was right. Sort of. "Martin. First of all. You aren't indebted to me. And I never want you to think that way. Whatever happens...or doesn't...happen between us, that doesn't change the fact that I like having you here. Not because I want anything from you. I simply like... _you_. Your company. This house..." He coughed and looked away a moment before looking back and resigning himself to complete honesty.

"It gets lonely here sometimes. I like cooking for two again. I like listening to you putter about. I like sitting with you at the table and talking. Or in front of the telly and not talking."

"Second of all, I understand. You feel the field is uneven" Martin nodded and Douglas went on. "You're right. I have all the power here"

"Exactly" Martin replied, looking at his hands, voice small. "I didn't mean for that.." He flapped his hand in the general direction of the sitting room "to happen. I just couldn't help it. I've wanted you for so long and the moment..."

"We got caught up in the moment." Douglas interrupted and Martin nodded again. "Can I ask you one favour though?"

"What's that?" Martin asked, miserably.

"We'll go back to the way things were. But. When you do move. Will you let me take you out for dinner?" Douglas took his hand again, squeezed once and let go.

Martin looked up and met his eyes. "Really?" His voice was bordering on watery. "You'd still want...?"

"Yes. I would. Please?" Douglas answered firmly but beseechingly. He refused to break eye contact. He wanted Martin to see he meant it. He'd wait. As long as it took.

"Y-yeah. Yes. I'd...I'd really like that" Martin smiled quickly at him. 

"Okay. Good. That's settled then." Douglas said with an air of finality. He gestured to Martin's cup. "Tea?"

"Love some. Thank you" Martin added the thanks with a genuine relieved note to his voice, and Douglas knew he wasn't talking about the tea.

Douglas stood and took his cup. "It's no trouble at all, Martin." Despite feeling like his heart was in his shoes, he forced a smile. "Tea doesn't take long. And I'm a _very_ patient man."


End file.
